Five Card Studs

by Madison Faye

  “Please,” I pleaded. “Just tell me what—”

  “You’re at the Auction House, luv,” a gruff, English accent rasped near my ear.

  I shivered.

  “And tonight,” he chuckled, the rumbling of his laugh sending an icy chill through me. “Well tonight, you’re the high bid.”

  He chuckled again at the gasping sound I made, and suddenly, I blinked as he pulled the gag away.

  The fear spiked in me as I glanced at the British man leading me. He was built — swarthy looking, with an evil looking scar running the length of his jaw. I glanced up, and gasped as I took in the luxurious, gorgeously decorated hallway we were walking down. It seemed like we were in some sort of opulent mansion, though there were no windows anywhere.

  “You’re at the Auction House, and tonight, you’re the high bid.”

  The man’s words had me terrified as he half led, half dragged me through a set of wooden doors into a small, dimly lit room.

  “Sit here,” the man growled, shoving me into a high-backed chair.

  My head spun at the blur of what had happened tonight — at my bizarre date that turned into the horrible time at the club, which had turned into this.

  Kidnapped.

  Bound.

  Ready to be sold.

  I wanted to cry, but I was too frozen — too numb from the shock of it all. I wondered for a minute how long until Andrea, and my family started looking for me.

  I wondered how long they would wait until they figured I was dead.

  I swallowed that horrible thought back down, shivering.

  “Please,” I pleaded, eyes going wide in fear as I looked up at the man. “Please, just tell me what’s going on.”

  That grin spread like a second scar across his face. “Rules were broken, luv. You don’t bring dates to the club, only girls you rightfully own.”

  “Own?”

  His eyes sparked something evil. “Mr. Cunningham’s father — well, he holds clout around here.”

  “Where’s here?”

  “The Auction House,” he purred, his eyes dripping down over the front of my dress and making me shiver uncomfortably. “You’ll fetch a very nice price.”

  “You can’t—”

  “Do this?” He grinned. “They all say that, sweetheart. And trust me, I can, and it is being done. Cunningham’s father had you pushed up in line to be the main attraction tonight, so that his son can fix his mistake and make it formal with the Organization regarding you.” He winked. “Then you’ll be his.”

  A bell chimed quietly, and the British man smiled. “And here we go, luv. It’s show time.”

  I started to open my mouth when he suddenly yanked me up.

  “You’ll be taking that off now.” His eyes dropped to my dress, and he grinned.

  “What?”

  “I know you heard me just fine, luv,” he growled. “Now take it off, or I will help you.”

  Cold fear lanced through me as his eyes oozed over me.

  I could feel every single pulse of my heart as I turned away from him, shivering as I reached back to pull the zipper at the back of my dress. I slid it down, feeling his eyes on my naked back, before I let the dress drop to the floor.

  And then I stood there in just the black bra and panties I’d worn under Andrea’s dress, my mind reeling at the reality of what was happening to me.

  “Turn around.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, biting back fear as I slowly turned, my hands meekly covering myself.

  He grinned. “Oh, you’ll fetch a nice price tonight, luv.”

  I gasped as he suddenly pulled a piece of leather out from his back pocket.

  My eyes went wide.

  No, not a piece of leather…a collar, one attached to a long lead.

  I felt cold as he slipped it on me, his wicked face grinning. “I’m Jorry, by the way. But we won’t speak after tonight. After tonight, you’ll do as Mr. Cunningham — and only Mr. Cunningham — says.”

  “Please,” I begged, my heart pounding as I tried one last time at empathy. “Please, don’t do this!”

  “See, there’s where you’ve got it wrong, luv.” He grinned. “You think you’re going to appeal to my better side, that it? You think you’re going to get to that little spot inside of me that hates all of this?”

  He laughed before he yanked the collar tight and pulled me close.

  “Not gonna happen. You see, sweetheart,” he grinned, leaning close. “I love all this.”

  The bell chimed once more.

  “Time to go.”

  5

  Mia

  The room was almost totally dark as I was led onto a small stage of sorts. Dim lights slowly illuminated me, standing alone in the darkness practically naked, with the collar around my neck.

  And slowly, my eyes adjusted as I looked out. And if this was a stage, they were the audience.

  I shivered, hands still meekly trying to cover myself.

  The men surrounding me, dressed in suits and sitting in sumptuous chairs sipping drinks, were basically the same crowd from the club earlier. Handsome, rich, and exuding power. As the lights centered on me, they all drew their eyes to me, and suddenly I had about thirty pairs of eyes just drinking me in.

  My head spun, and my eyes darted across the crowd, feeling the pressure and the fear getting bigger and bigger and bigger until—

  Until my eyes came to a stop, and I froze.

  Because dead center, right in front of me, were the three men from the club — the three men who’d commanded that room back there, and seemed to do the same here. The one’s who’d stepped in when Ryan had gone too far.

  And I wanted to think of this as a good sign — that my heroes were here, but then the reality hit me.

  Yeah, they were here alright — here at the fucking Auction House.

  And looking at me like that.

  Like they wanted to devour me.

  “Good evening, gentlemen.” A woman’s voice purred over the room through speakers, pulling my attention from the three men.

  “Welcome to the Auction House,” the bodiless voice sounded stern and yet elegant — cultured and schooled.

  “Tonight, we offer a very special surprise for you all. After certain events earlier in the evening, Mr. Cunningham the senior has seen to it that a proper bidding take place for this young woman.”

  All the eyes in the room turned and leveled at me.

  “Mia Thorne, aged twenty-four.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “Natural blonde, blue eyes, feisty.”

  Feisty, huh?

  “Tenacity and willingness to fight.” The woman’s voice chuckled through the speakers. “A kitten with claws, gentlemen.”

  A laugh tittered through the crowd.

  “No previous ownership. She comes as is, with no formal training, and tonight, we start the bidding at one-hundred thousand. Mr. Jorry, if you would?”

  Behind me, the Brit chuckled, and I shivered, straining against collar as I felt his hand pull at my arms, forcing them to drop to my sides.

  “Best keep them there if you’re smart,” he husked into my ear.

  And just like that, I was standing in just lacy, see-through black lingerie in front of a room full of strange men.

  Oh my God.

  And suddenly the reality of all this came starkly into focus. Suddenly, everything about it hit me that I really was on the auction block, ready to be sold to one of the men in this room.

  I heard a cough, and I glanced over to see Ryan, off to one side and grinning as he raised a hand.

  “Wonderful,” the voice purred. “One hundred thousand, from Mr. Cunningham. And do I hear—”

  Another hand raised behind him.

  “Excellent, one-hundred and fifty thousand to Mr. Trussel.”

  “Two hundred thousand,” Ryan growled, shifting in his chair and scowling.

  The man behind him coughed again. “Three hundred.”

  “Still mad about la
st month, Trussel?” Ryan smirked as he turned back and lifted a hand. “Four hundred thousand.”

  And just like that, I watched my fate start to play out between two male egos. I felt my blood turn to ice in my veins, my body freezing bit by bit as the price climbed higher, and the two men grew more irate with each other.

  “Nine-hundred thousand,” the voice said quietly.

  Ryan smirked, glancing back at Mr. Trussel, who shook his head.

  “Mr. Cunningham always gets his way, luv,” Jorry chuckled into my ear, still standing behind me on the stage, holding my collar.

  “Going once?” The voice questioned. “Twice.”

  “One million.”

  My eyes snapped up at the voice.

  The voice I knew.

  I gasped as the blonde man, of the trio, locked his eyes to mine. He grinned hungrily.

  “One million.”

  “Well then,” the woman’s voice sounded surprised. “Mr. Lawson, topping Mr. Cunningham at one million.”

  Jorry chuckled in my ear. “Oh, sweetheart,” he clucked his tongue. “You’ve got them three bidding on you now. Now them?” He chuckled again. “Them you don’t want.”

  My eyes went wide.

  “You see, them three, they work as a team, you might say. A three-man team.”

  I swallowed thickly.

  “If they get you?” He whistled lowly. “Oh, will they break you in.”

  Something tightened inside of me, my body shivering, and I wasn’t sure if it was horror or…well, something else that flickered through me at the thought of those three powerful men from the club taking me.

  Owning me.

  Breaking me in.

  Ryan’s face turned savage as he glared across the shadowed room at the blonde man. “One point one million.”

  “One point two.” The dark haired, blue-eyed man who Ryan had referred to as “Blackwood” earlier, raised his hand.

  Ryan fumed. “One five, you pricks.” He growled before turning and letting his eyes burn into me.

  The third man, the one with the brooding darkness surrounding him, suddenly rose.

  “I’m tired of this.”

  My heart sank, before I realized how silly it was that I’d somehow been hoping they won. As absurd as it was, during the bidding, I’d been secretly hoping Ryan lost. There were three of them, that I knew. And I knew they scared me, and that the power they seemed to wrap themselves in sent shivers of something terrifying through my body.

  But I also knew if Ryan won this, and me, I was done for. I’d never see my family again, that I knew for sure, just by looking at him.

  The third man shook his head. “Yes, I’m tired of this.”

  Ryan grinned triumphantly.

  “So I’m going to stop this now.” His smiled darkly at Ryan before he turned his eyes to me.

  All three of them did, and I felt myself melt under those dark, fierce gazes.

  “Two million.”

  Oh, God.

  Ryan’s jaw dropped as he sputtered. “Two point on—”

  “Two and a half,” the blonde man, Lawson, said effortlessly before turning to smile thinly at Ryan. “We can do this all night, Cunningham.”

  There was a chuckle through the crowed, and Ryan’s face turned dark red. “This isn’t fair,” he hissed. “There are fucking three of—”

  “And yet, you’re the one who brought her into this,” the dark-haired, dark-eyed, yet-unnamed third man growled at him before glancing up into the dark ceiling of the room, as if addressing the bodiless announcer’s voice somewhere up there. “Are we done here?”

  There was a long pause, and silence.

  “The bid is two point five million,” she finally said, devoid of emotion. “Do I hear two-six?”

  Ryan fumed, muttering under his breath and kicking at his chair.

  “Going once.”

  “You fucking cocksuckers, I swear to God—”

  “Going twice.”

  Ryan sat.

  “Sold.”

  The room spun, and I felt as though I might pass out as the word cut through me like a knife.

  Sold.

  I looked up, only to see the three of them standing, their eyes locked on mine. I could feel my pulse beating like a drum in my ears, my breath coming heavy as they approached and stopped before me.

  Their eyes teased over me, standing there trying not to faint in the black lingerie, feeling their eyes burn right through me. I felt like they might devour me right there, and for a moment, I wondered if the breaking in would start right there on that stage.

  Finally, Blackwood broke the spell.

  “She’ll do,” he growled, his lips turning slightly up at the corners as his eyes narrowed at me.

  I took a shaky breath, slowly shaking my head. “Please,” I whispered. “Please just—”

  “Bring her to our place,” the dark-eyed man growled, his gaze drinking me in.

  “We’ll be waiting.”

  And with that, they — the men who’d just bought me like some sort of commodity — turned and prowled out of the room, the power and the energy still surrounding them like a tempest and tugging me after them.

  “Oh, luv,” Jorry chuckled as he tugged on my collar. “Now you’re in for it.”

  6

  Oliver

  “This was a bad idea,” Ash growled as we stepped into our study.

  I closed the door behind us, turning to see Erik already pouring drinks over at the bar cart.

  “You know we had to.”

  “Two and a half mil?” Ash muttered, swearing under his breath.

  I shrugged. “C’mon, like it matters.”

  “It’s not the money.”

  It was never about money with us. I suppose it had been once, back before we’d built ourselves into the men we were today. Back when we came from the streets, it was about money. Now? Well, now money was hardly an issue.

  Now, there was no denying that all three of us were criminals. To be clear, we were not good men. We’d started small, but we’d quickly scaled into the underworld empire we were today. We sold arms, mostly, dabbling in smuggling, but it was the guns that paid the most. Our biggest client?

  The U.S. Government, of course — they needed guys like us to buy and sell weapons with people they couldn’t be seen buying from or selling to.

  We were damn good at what we did, and it paid very well.

  So yeah, we’d come from nothing, building what we had now brick by brick. We’d risen up, we’d become rich.

  And then Amy had happened, and it all changed. After that, something broke in us.

  I looked away. “You know what would have happened if she stayed.”

  Both Erik and Ash looked down grimly.

  Yeah, they knew. It was why we were in this whole thing. It was why we’d spent the last six months inserting ourselves into the whole fucked-up scene that had taken over at the Auction House.

  You see, the Auction House had always catered to a certain element of the underworld — specifically, the rich element who looked for a certain measure of submission. It also catered a certain caliber of women — women who craved an equal measure of control. It’d been a good thing for a long time — in fact, the three of us had bid on, and won, women there before who became our playthings until they chose to leave.

  Because that’s the thing — despite the dom/sub arrangements brokered at the Auction House, everything was on the level and more importantly, everything was consensual.

  But change had happened. Somewhere up the underworld food-chain, there’d been some restructuring, and suddenly, the Cunninghams had taken over control of the actions.

  And things had changed. Things had gotten not good.

  The clientele had slowly changed, from men who wanted that extra edge in their lives to men who just wanted to hurt women. And the girls had changed, from the willing submissives to, well, the not so willing.

  Or not willing at all.

  Most
of the former clientele had left, us included. Even with living in the shadows and being part of the criminal underworld, that sort of thing was nothing that interested us. A woman submitting — even one you had to train, and slowly dominate — was one thing. Forcing someone into that life though was beyond the pale.

  That wasn’t domming and subbing, that was just slavery.

  So we’d left the Cunninghams to do their own business, leaving the auctions behind us.

  And then Amy had happened, and that’d been our tipping point. That’d been the point where we’d gone back to the Auction House, against every single one of our principals, in order to get in close.

  And then we were going to kill both Ryan and his father, and burn their empire to the ground.

  I gritted my teeth as I took the scotch Erik offered me, swallowing a healthy slug of it. I glanced up at my two friends. “You know what would have happened if he’d gotten her tonight.

  Erik’s eyes narrowed as he nodded. “Yeah, man, we know.”

  He didn’t have to say it out loud, because we all knew. She’d have been taken back to Cunningham’s penthouse, most likely beaten and abused, and then made to endure him using her body any way he pleased. And after he was done with her? Well, Ryan Cunningham had a disgusting reputation of letting his men have their way with his girls when he was done breaking them.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing back the rage of that man getting his hands on her.

  On Mia.

  I’d had one look at her in the club tonight, and I’d been undone. One look, and I was shattered — broken, hooked.

  Obsessed, you might say.

  And I knew my friends well enough to know for damn sure I wasn’t the only one.

  “So now she’s ours,” Ash growled, swirling his drink around the glass in his hands.

  “Careful,” Erik shook his head, pushing his hands though his blonde hair.

  “You both know what I mean,” I muttered. “She stays here for now.”

  Erik’s eyes narrowed at me. “We can’t just keep her here.”

  “If she leaves, there’s nothing to stop Ryan from picking her up himself. Not to mention, they’ll know for damn sure we’re not what we say we are.”